


Glass Casket

by Control_Room



Category: Mystery Skulls Animated
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Arthur-centric, Background - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Concussions, Illustrations, Newton's Third Law, References to Depression, Self-Esteem Issues, Struggling, With A Twist, fighting with self, lewvithur is mentioned, post The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 09:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27349009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Control_Room/pseuds/Control_Room
Summary: Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.
Relationships: Arthur/Vivi/Lewis (crush)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 94





	Glass Casket

**Author's Note:**

> Enigma is what I'm calling the Not-Mystery. Because that's not the Mystery I know.  
> Drawing is mine, source to here on tumblr: https://insane-control-room.tumblr.com/post/633622812620423170/if-i-die-when-i-die-bury-me-inside-a-glass  
> Hope you enjoy!

Lewis protected them by fending off the bursts of magic that Enigma shot towards them, dispelling them. Vivi darted this way and that, ice trailing behind her feet and bat, building and fortifying walls to keep them safe, adding bursts of shackles to hold the no-longer-Mystery down. And Arthur was nothing more than a sitting duck. Within the Mystery Skulls van, he frantically tried to repair his arm, the spazzing metal and wires not only painful to the touch, but let alone to wear. Arthur hissed as another explosion rocked the van, trying to cinch down the limb to remove it, desperately needing the relief of it off. Especially so that he could go help Vivi and Lewis. They did not need him, they could easily handle themselves, but Arthur _wanted_ to help, he wanted to show them (and himself) that he could be brave and strong, just like they were. 

Another explosion rattled his tools. He instinctively covered his head to protect it from anything that may have fallen onto him. Nothing did, thankfully. Exhaling in relief, he armed himself with his screwdriver to take off his arm. Looking down at the table he was trying to tie it down to, he stared at the empty space where it had been, and looked to his shoulder, following the metal with his eyes. It went behind him, and stood very, very still. Analyzing the situation made it clear things were not going his way. Arthur’s arm was going haywire-- and it was behind his back, against his will. 

Inhale, exhale. Mechanically, the arm could only be in a few places on his spine. He would be fine. Gathering his courage, he reached behind himself and felt about for the metal arm. Finding it, he grasped it quickly, and sat on the floor so that he could bring it out from underneath himself. It refused to come without a fight, and jabbed the cold thumb into the base of his back. Arthur grit his teeth and sucked up the pain, ignoring the way the hand grabbed into the soft flesh of the back of his legs like vulture talons. He forced it onto the table, belting the leather straps into place. With a blast from outside, the mechanical arm sent shock waves up to his shoulder, the electricity scratching into his neck and chest, and a secondary pulse slammed down a can of machine oil, coating Arthur with the slimy liquid. He fought a gag, hand reaching to his throat to cover his mouth as he hacked. 

A cold hand grabbed him by the back of his collar, and hoisted him into the air, throwing him to the other side of the van. Arthur, dazed, noticed the oily puddle where his arm had been strapped, clearly having used the lubrication to slip free of the restraints.

His reflexes kicking in, he fended off the rogue limb with his screwdriver, desperately trying to keep it away from his face and neck. It punched him in the stomach, slapped him repeatedly, and while he was out of it from that, grabbed him by the ankle and flipped him over, the young man landing face flat against the van’s floor. He saw from the corner of his squished eye the arm pick up a wrench, and despite his rapidfire protest and struggle to rise from the cold floor, it fell. Stars dancing until darkness overcame him. 

He groaned, Arthur’s nauseatingly dizzy vision pulsing and doubled.

With a gasp, Arthur watched Vivi leap into the air, far higher than he had ever seen her jump, ice and snow drifting and thundering around her like a sublime guardian of the past. His heart fluttered at the awe striking sight, the ice melted by bursts of spectral flame. His eyes moved along the path of the fire, and he felt it warm his cheeks when he saw Lewis. Lewis, doused in power, summoned and morphed the blaze with only a flick of his fingers. 

Were they getting smaller?

Arthur looked at the ground underneath him, moving with short bursts. His shirt was bundled up by his upper back and ribs, pushed by the friction. Blinking rapidly, he twisted and writhed in order to observe his body. He was being dragged away, and his shouts for help went unheard under Enigma’s mighty and thundering roars. He scrambled at the earth with his functional hand, but the artificial one was so much more powerful, and jerked him back with ease. 

Pink crystals.

He yelled louder for help, tearing, hoping the echo would amplify his voice.

He was dragged into the cave. The cave seemed to swallow him, so he gripped a gem sticking from the floor, trying to anchor himself. That failed when the arm tossed him into the air, catching him by his raw throat, accomplishing two things. One, Arthur went limp, terrified. Two he was silent. The flesh hand that wrapped around the cold wrist was powerless to resist as he was pulled into the secondary cave where Lewis was pushed. 

Newton’s third law.

Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.

Push and pull. 

Arthur always knew he would die, but he never knew it would be like this.

His heels dug into the dirt, dragging up pink crystals, outlining his path in jewels. 

At least it would be beautiful on the way down.

Arthur still fought. He looked over his shoulder, Lewis and Vivi handling Enigma. Barely. He wanted to go help them, he _needed_ to, but it looked like he never would be able to. There was no revenge he could get against his own jealousy. 

His vision spun as he glanced down, shaking and trembling. 

There was no way he would make it. 

Arthur called for them once more. A tear trickled down his cheek. 

He was held over the edge.

He closed his eyes.

.

..

…

….

He opened them.

His arm was sparking on his lap, power out.

Arthur’s tear was in the palm.


End file.
